A Faux Fairytale
by Alina 122
Summary: They should've known. They should've known that it wasn't a fairytale. But a reality. A harsh reality that they realised after everything was over. (Contains angst and depressing contents.) Rated M for Violence and abuse
1. James

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the rightful property of JK Rowling.**

 **Warning at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers.**

...

 _'The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained'_

 ** _Anonymous_**

...

 **~Regret~**

...

There was no fanfare. No blazing lights. No spells flying around. He didn't die saving someone. He wasn't tortured by evil wizards. He wasn't even down with an illness. There was no goodbye.There was no screaming. It was just the sound of flesh hitting flesh, then flesh hitting the glass table, glass shattering and pitiful cry of a child.

That was me.

I never suspected anything was wrong. Not when he would have mysteriously broken a bone. Not when he would have a black eye, a split lip and various bruises on his arms. I never suspected anything that would lead to this. Yet there were signs. Signs that I so blissfully ignored. Young as I was, I never even imagined this to happen. We were just a happy perfect little family. I see that glitch now.

I wish I had seen it before.

...

Dad had a number of scars on his body. Some left by his own relatives. He never talks about that. Mum had forbidden us to ask him questions about it, but those weren't the only scars. There were many, all telling us a different tale. I was seven when I spotted the scar on the back from his hand. The words 'I must not tell lies' etched on hs skin.

"Who did it?" I had asked. Angry and horrified at the same time. As far as I knew, Dad was the most honest person ever.

I saw him glance at his scar and then at me, jaws clenched. And I knew the story behind it wasn't pleasant.

"An evil woman." That's all he said and I knew he wasn't going to talk about it anymore. Frowning I still sat there, perplexed and still staring at the scar. His hand moved and I saw the next set of scars, crissed-crossed adorning his wrist.

"Was this done by an evil woman too?" He didn't clenched his jaw this time, nor did he looked at me. Biting his lip down he just stared at his wrist. For a moment I imagined the images of a tall woman with crazy hair, wearing black robes.

"James, give your father a rest."

I saw mum standing behind Dad, her hands on his shoulder. I think I saw Dad wince.

"Go join your cousin's. They are planning to play quidditch."

The idea of quidditch drove all thoughts of evil witches out my mind and without a second thought I headed out of the kitchen. I glanced back as I reached to door only to see them kissing fiercely and I let go of the my worries.

If only I had seen the flaw in that kiss. If only I had known that the story of these scars were altogether different. If only I had known that the tale behind these scars was going to take away his life. Take away his life and destroy my world in such a way that it would be beyond repair.

...

Sundays of the Potter and Weasley kids were always spend at the burrow. We had just had lunch with our cousins when Grandma Molly came and told us that Dad had been rushed to the hospital because he had accidentally fallen down the stairs and was seriously injured.

That fact that how could he have only fallen down the stairs and be on the verge of death was mystery. The sight of him bloodied and unconscious at the hospital bed was enough to send shivers down my spine. Mum sat there with us, Lily on her lap as she cried. 'A wolf in sheep's clothing.' Thats what she was. To one she would have looked like a perfect wife in despair. I believed her act too. I just wish I hadn't. I should have questioned Dad about his injuries. But I didn't.

I wish I had.

...

Dad never cried. To me he was always the brave tough Auror who fought bad people. And yet one day I saw him cry. He wasn't making any noise, there were just the tears that kept sliding down his face. I wish I had consoled him then. Asked him why he was crying. I wished to know the reasons behind his tears. Lily did console him then though. Said his reasons for crying were silly. They weren't. But I didn't know.

And when I knew, it was too late.I hate myself for it.

...

It wasn't the first the time that an argument broke over between my parents. But they always made up with each other. I never knew the end of their arguments. It was always my Dad who interrupted.

 _"Let's not talk about it here, dear."_

 _"We will have this discussion later, Gin."_

I hated the silence that ran throughout the house as both of them would move into his study. I hated not knowing what was happening behind those closed doors. _I hated the bloody silence_. I hate how much he kept us in the dark.

How many burns, scars and bruises and broken bones were due to his auror mission and how many caused by her?

...

He often suffers from nightmares. Shouting frantically in his sleep. Many a times I've been woken up from his screaming. He'd always apologize.

 _'Sorry I woke you up kiddo.'_

 _'Lets just forget about it, yeah'_

I regret forgetting about it then.

How many nightmares had he suffered sleeping beside his wife and how many because of his wife?

...

 _'Your Mum is helping a friend out, she'll be back soon.'_

This is the excuse he would give us when I would ask him where Mum is. The absence of her was discomforting to say that least. Dad would always be anxious . He would try his best to not show it but how much could he hide? How many times I had heard him talking to Aunt Hermione in panic when Mum would not return in a day. That each time she went missing he would spend hours at night in the living room waiting for her completely ignoring his sleep.

How could have I possibly ignored all these signs?

Dad kept us all in dark. He never meant any of us to find out. Had he not realised that he wasn't alone? That we were there for him. Always?

I realise he was only protecting us. Protecting us from the dark secret that loomed over us.

Because it's always like this, isn't it?

A child is not supposed to protect his parent, it's the other way around.

...

The day he died is still clearly etched in my mind. We never suspected that she would kill him. He loved her. I don't know whether she loved him or not but he did. I knew he loved her very much. The fact that until his dying moment he had still loved her, always hoping that everything would be alright in future is enough of a prove.

I wasn't supposed to see this. I wasn't supposed to see their fight. I wasn't supposed to see who was hitting him or why he wasn't protecting himself. My gasp was loud enough to distract him and he looked at me with wide eyes surprised to see me. And then that's it. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, then flesh hitting the glass table, glass shattering and pitiful cry of a child.

...

 **Warning: Character death. This story contains Female on Male abuse. This is not a Ginny bashing fic. Contains Domestic violence.**


	2. Albus

**Warnings from the first chapter still apply.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.**

 _'Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.'_

 ** _~ Vicki Harrison_**

...

 **~Grief~**

...

Dead.

That's all I can say when I remember him. I still can't get over his loss. Its still a shock to me. People say one can't live in shock forever. But they don't understand. The pain, the loss stays with you always. When you lose someone you love, you never fully recover or return to the person you were before you lost them. You just learn to adapt the new you. But the emptiness never wilts away.

Eleven years it has been since that fateful night and I still feel like he is going to come home. Like he's just going to walk through the door. Grinning, looking at us, ruffling our hair and giving Lily a kiss, just like he always did. But I know I won't see him smiling ever again. I won't get to hug him again. Because he's dead.

That's right. My Dad.

Dead.

...

That night was just like the others. Mum and Dad kissed us goodnight and we were off to bed. I don't think we had ever known that it would be the last time he would kiss us goodnight.

When Mum dissappeared for a day or two he would always take leave from work which happened atleast a month and I would get those same lame excuses.

 _"She just needs some time alone, the work has been a big burden on her."_

 _"Her friend is going through a tough time she is just helping her around."_

 _"Mum needed some time alone, leave her at it."_

'Course she would return after a day or...two but that didn't mean we didn't notice the fake smiles and laugh he gave us or just how we would sometimes find him crying as he sat in his study. James says he had heard him taking to Aunt Hermione about Mum once. There were so many things that we had noticed. So many.

Noticed but failed to consider.

...

I always got confused when Dad would hug me mummering confusing but yet soothing words, hugging me and comforting me.

 _' I'm sorry kiddo.'_

 _'I'm not going to lose you Al.'_

 _' I love you Albus.'_

So many times he had hugged me close and mummered these small comforting words to me. But I know he said them to dispel his own fears. He didn't understand that he wasn't supposed to be sorry. He wasn't suppsoed to lose me and he didn't know what love was. Not if you counted this.

...

I had seen them fight and argue enough to say that it was normal. But I realise now that what happened during their arguments was far from normal. Almost insane. Inhuman.

...

I was five when I saw the first crack. They were arguing. I could hear them as I stood on the stairs waiting for the peace sign so that I could move upstairs.

"I'm sorry Ginny, but the Head of the Department's meeting is really important, I can't miss it.." I heard him apologize.

"You promised me that you would come to this game Harry..."

Now I knew what they were bickering about. Mum had this important Quidditch match tomorrow and apparently all of the family was going to watch her. If Dad was not going it would really upset her.

"Please don't be mad, love." There was this sudden desperation in his voice that my five year old mind couldn't articulate.

 _Smack!_

Thats the sound the reached my ears and I found myself automatically moving upstairs.

"Ginny the kids-" Dad stopped himself abruptly and he saw me looking at them. To me nothing looked fishy.

Mum was standing there, adjusting his collar be she didn't look angry she looked just...normal.

"It's alright, we'll talk later." She muttered and she gave me a smile and ruffling my hair she descended downstairs leaving me with Dad.

At first he just stared at me and then rubbing his face with his hand he smiled back too.

"Hey Al."

I was five...and you know, there is joy and wonder everywhere when you look with the eyes of a kid. My five year old self wasn't able to see the lies that he fed us. But I am not a kid anymore. I know what was happening back then and the reality is just so harsh that I want to go back in believing in everything and not knowing anything at all.

...

But no matter how much I grieve or cry, the past cannot be changed, forgotten or erased. It can only be accepted.

...

I remember my first journey to platform nine and three quarters. With all those remarks and teasing from James, I was more worried than ever. I had confined my fears wth dad.

 _Dad, What if I am put in Slytherin?_

He had smiled crouching down, looking at me. Telling me that no matter what happened I would always be loved. Even if I was a Slytherin. And even though his words had called me down, the anxiety and anxiousness retuned when I was sorted in Slytherin and as I ran up to to my dorm in the dungeons the first thing I wrote on the letter was a question. A simple question that had all my fears and worries.

 _You hate me now, don't you?_

And his reply came immediately in the morning telling me not to be stupid. He told me how I was still his son and the Slytherin house didn't change that. The point I'm trying to prove is that he was always there for me. While James teased me to no end he would always side up with me and we would always team up together and harass James. Those are memories I cherished the most. But back then we didn't realise we were making memories, we were just having fun. It's true when one says that you don't realise the value of the moment until it becomes a memory.

...

His funeral was the worst. His coffin was laid down and for the last time in my last life I saw him face. Eyes closed and giving him a clear expression of sleeping if only you could ignore the dried bruises on his cheeks and head. His face was paler than usual. He looked calm. Almost alsleep and I held my breath as the coffin was closed and lowered down. Deep... deep under the ground, far from my sight, from form my reach. _Atleast no one could hurt you there, Dad..._ There were wizards and withces all having solemn expression as they bid a final farewell to their saviour, to their hero. Grandma Molly was sobbing. Aunt Hermione was crying. Uncle Ron was whimpering. Uncle George and Aunt Angelina were comforting Grandma Molly. Uncle Bill supported a sobbing Aunt Fleur. Teddy stood with her fiancé Victoire. Grandpa Arthur stood with Uncle Charlie and with the rest of the Weasley Family.. Everyone was present except her. She didn't deserve to stand here not when she was the reason we all were gathered today. James stood beside me. Lily had her head buried on Aunt Audrey's shoulders as Uncle Percy mummerd words to her. It was when the moment when his coffin was throughly burried, I broke down and with me went down James. The sudden sickening realisation that he was truly gone and never to come back hit the hardest. There would be no more morning spend with him. He was gone but not forgotten. But it doesn't changes the fact I wouldn't have anyone to complain to about James. He wouldn't be here to scold James when he went off pranking. He no longer would be here to play dress-up with Lily. No more evenings would be spent by his side as his voice would lull us to sleep. There would be nothing. I felt so empty. But yet I still felt like it was just a big bad dream. A nightmare that now live in everyday.

Suddenly I was in the arms of Aunt Hermione and she held me and James as we both cried and she didn't stop us nor did she mummerd those lies of ' it'll get better' and 'its okay' , she just cried with us instead.

...

My second year at Hogwarts at Hogwarts was filled with pity, condolences and grief. There would always be students whispering as I would walk down the hallways and corridors. James altogether stopped pranking. _'Pranking wouldn't bring him back, would it?'_ He'd say. It took him months to come out of his depression. He still blames himself for his death. I just wish he wouldn't. Dad wouldn't have wanted this. Afterall he wanted us to have a normal childhood, the one he was deprived of. But to be honest I think the moment he was gone our childhood had started wilting away.

May wizards and witches came to me offering consoledence with promise that they understood what we were going through. But in reality they don't. Because that day on 15th July 2018 they buried the Boy-who-lived, their Chosen One but we buried our _Dad_. Who was murdered. Right on front of his eldest son.

They said that it gets better. _But when?_

They said that everything gets okay. _But it won't. Everyday will just an reminder of what I lost._

They said that it's okay. _But it isn't. My Dad dying is not okay. Its far from okay._

It doesn't get better when people keep throwing you pitiful glances and smiles reminding you of what you've lost.

Everything isn't okay when his death keeps haunting you in your dreams.

And it's not okay for me to believe that everything will be alright. Because it won't. Beacuse nothing can be alright. I lost him and I lost everything. I lost my hero. I lost my idol. I lost my guide. I think hardest part of losing someone isn't having to say goodbye,but rather learning to live without them, always trying to fill the void, the empitness, left inside your heart when they go.

Eleven years and I still feel like he's going to come home, grinning riffling each of our hair and then bending down to give Lily a kiss. But he won't.

And all I can do now is grief. Because he is dead.

Thats right. My Dad.

Dead.

...

 **My friends say that I'm really good at writing Tragic fics and stories so I decided to try my hands at this.**

 **Please do tell me how this was! Constructive criticism is always welcomed!** **Next Chapter will be in Lily's Point of view.**


	3. Lily

**This chapter took me months finish. One of my fans PM'ed me and asked me why I'm writing this...Trust me girl, I have no idea why I'm doing this. Being a totally Hinny shipper and fan for years I have no clue why I decided to write this fic.** **Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling.**

...

 _Those we love don't go away, they walk beside us everyday. Unseen. Unheard, but always near. Still loved, still missed and very dear._

 **~Anonymous**

...

 **~Hope~**

...

 _Dear Daddy,_

 _I_ _miss you as soon and I wake up and I miss you as I'm about to sleep. I just wish that you would be here. With me. Near me. It's been years since I started writing these letters to you and each time as I sit here whispering and writing about how much I love you and how much I miss you I believe and I hope the somehow you can still hear me. I don't remember much your time with me. The memories are kind of a blur but what I know is that you loved me. Loved me so much that missing you becomes a different heartache. But I'm not grieving Daddy. I won't. Because you did what you had to. You wanted to protect us, didn't you? I won't let you die in vain. I'll live just like you wanted us to. But I do miss you. I honestly miss you so much. I miss your hugs. I miss your smiles. I miss the little time I had that I spent with you. The day you left I was all confused. I lost everything within minutes. I would do anything I'm this whole world just to see your smile again, just to be in your arms. Just to let you hold me and hug me. Just to hear your voice. But I don't grieve. I just hope._

 _Anyways_ _I want to tell you about something special Daddy. Your daughter just got engaged today. I'm soon going to be married and start my own family. I hope you are proud of me.That's all I want you to be. Teddy will be ascorting me down the aisle. He thinks it isn't his place to stand where you should be standing but Teddy has a been so supporting for us over the years I think it's his right. You agree, don't you? I just wish you could be here. So that I could share that dance with you. I've seen Victoire cry and dance with Uncle Bill on her wedding. I've seen Dominique. I've seen Rose dance merrily with Uncle Ron. Oh, how I wish I could do the same. That I could laugh and dance with you. I hope that you would be watching over us Daddy. I dare say you have to. James and Al are still quite reluctant to let me go. Seriously I really get a little bit tired of their over-protectiveniss. But they say it's their duty to protect their baby sister and I just hope they would stop. I hope you are happy daddy. I promise you I won't turn in the way she did.I'm going to make you proud._

 _May_ _the wind blow soflty in heaven and whispered in your ear about how much we miss you and wish you were here_.

 _With_ _love,_

 _Lily._

...

It seems silly, doesn't it? To write letters to the dead I mean. But it gives me hope. A kind of hope which is difficult to explain. It's like knowing he isn't here but yet when you write these letters you feel very close to him. Almost like talking to him. It's a hope for a better tomorrow. Makes sense? Sometimes I do question my own sanity. But _these_ letters keep me sane. Sane enough to continue my life without any grieve or regret.

...

My Dad wasn't there in many stages of my life, except my birth, of course. He wasn't there when I boarded the Hogwart Express for the first time. He wasn't there when I sent a letter home from Hogwarts telling them I'm in Gryffindor for the first time. He wasn't there to share my happiness when I got selected in the Quidditch team. He wasn't there to chase away my first boyfriend. He wasn't there to threaten my fiancé. But I do hope that he statisfied with my choice. That when he look down upon me, he sees the girl he had tried to raise and be proud of.

...

Aurors.

Thats what comes back to my mind when I remember that day. Men walking in and out wearing the same uniform my Daddy used to wear. Sometimes giving me this smiles of pity and then asking me questions. Questions that left me befuddled. What was like living with her? Did I you ever see your parents fight? How did they behave? It was Aunt Hermione who came to me and told me that Daddy was with his parents now and I just blinked back as Uncle Ron walked in asking about Teddy. Apparently Teddy had 'gone into shock.'

It had been five days since my Dad was murdered. James refused to talk or eat. Albus hardly came out of his room. It a an utter chaos. At that time I build my own story that Mum was out there trying to catch the murderer and the sooner she would come the sooner we would go back to normal. As normal as we could be without Dad. But Teddy kept telling me repeatedly Mum wasn't coming back. And his eyes would go all dark whenever I would mention her. They thought I was young. So they kept the truth from me.

I know the truth now. They are hidden inside my drawer. The newspaper cuttings with words like 'Domestic abuse', 'Spousal Abuse', 'Murder' are filled in my drawer along with a sharp piece of glass that was a part of taking away his life.

...

James had this haunted look in his eyes everytime. I remember clearly when he and Albus came back from Hogwarts for Christmas break. Uncle George had gone to collect them from the platform and when they came back to the Burrow. He only whispered four words and then he rushed upstairs and we rarely saw come out again.

"I can see Threstals."

Four words that caused Grandma Molly to burst into tears and Aunt Hermione who had just entered with Rose to gasp loudly.

Teddy was the only one who could get James to eat or talk. Albus tried to act normal but anyone could look through his facade. It was like the only rope that holding this family together had loosened. Or died in this matter.

...

My Dad was a very private man. He kept his thoughts to himself. He wouldn't share his opinions unless asked. He kept his secrets closed. I wish I had tried harder.

"Are you crying Daddy?"

I asked as I walked into the kitchen at the same time I heard that door slam loudly. To me Daddy was tough man. Daddy didn't cry. He was indomitable.

"It's the onions."

I scrunched my face in confusion. "Onions?"

He wiped his eyes on his sleeves blinking furiously.

"The onions make me cry, flower." He gestured towards cutting board where the sliced onions were neatly placed as if a priced exhibit. But still I huffed and folder my hands across my chest trying to look bold.

"I'm not crying!" I argued.

"Well then your stronger than I am," he chuckled handing me a spoon. I looked at it in confusion.

"You stir with it, Lils," he gestured at the simmering pot and I slowly began stirring it as Dad prepared the next ingredient.

"Where is Mum?"

I think I sensed him stiffen a bit and that question but maybe it was my imagination I don't know.

"She's with a friend," his tone was so casual that I don't think anyone could see the wrong in it.

"She's always there," I had whined.

"Her friend is going through a tough time, she is just helping her out."

"She'll be here for dinner, right?" I'd asked.

"Nope." He smiled not at all bothered. "It's just me you three misfits"

He walked toward the pot with I had eventually stopped stirring and added the last bit of ingredients. It smelled heavenly. My Daddy's cooking always does.

The next day, there was there same door slam. I found my Dad in tears in the kitchen and again we had dinner without her. At that time we couldn't have suspected anything.

I wish we had.

...

We had been given a chance to meet her once she was in custody. At that time I hadn't wanted to go and meet her. I didn't want to disturb her from finding my Dad's murderer. James didn't go too. Al did. But he never speaks of that time. But no one can forget that haunted look on his face when he came back.

We have so many wonderful memories with him. James says they are all tainted with proofs and signs that we had ignored. I don't think we could've ever realized. He had hid them really well. I just wish he hadn't.

Maybe if he had told someone then he would have been here with us. He would have been sitting with us and giving me a nickname every week from 'Flower' to 'Tiger-Lily' each getting more silly. But grieving wouldn't bring him back. Nor would hoping.

I just wish it would.

...

 **I** **tried making Lily's chapter a little light hearted than the rest. Three more chapters to go guys! Next chapter is of Teddy's.**


	4. Teddy

_Sometimes pain is not in the tears they shed, but in the smiles they fake._

 _ **~anon**_ _ **ymous**_

* * *

 **Blame**

* * *

Everyone saw what she wanted us to see. He just experienced it all. James calls her a wolf in sheep's clothing. Just like a wolf in the fairytale book Hermione had given me. Disguised in being a gentle and loving creature but in truth a murderer. I feel so betrayed and angry that he died because of her. But the bizarre part of betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies. The memory of James sobbing over his bleeding father is painted in the back of my eyelids. Victoire says it isn't my fault. That we couldn't have just realized about the abuse that he was going through. But she doesn't know that if I had just been a little quick I could have saved his life. It had just been a week that I had asked Victoire to marry me and then there came is death. Dropping on us like a sudden bomb and killing us all from inside.

Sometimes I get that nagging feeling that he really wanted to tell me about what was going on. I think he dropped clues too.

 _Yeah, but does she really love you?_

 _Are you sure about what you're doing Teddy?_

 _Make the right choice mate._

All this questions about Victoire felt ridiculous at that time. I'd feel both angry and confused. But I now realize what they all meant. The words—

 _I love my wife too but see what she really is._

 _Are you sure you are not going down the same path I did?_

 _Don't make the same mistake I did. Don't make the wrong choice._

Were left unspoken but now clear to me.

I remember that one late midnight when I had this awkward conversation with him. The night when he really did leave out some clues. We were all at the Burrow after the Saturday dinner sitting in the living room having butterbeer and listening to some mushy muggle love song that had seemingly been requested out of nowhere from Fleur, when Harry did the most unexpected thing. Getting up from the seat getting the attention of most of the occupants in the room, he offered his hand to Ginny asking her to dance. I had rolled my eyes back then and sighed at the way they had behaved. For Merlin's sake they were in their forties now, they should stop acting like bloody teenagers!

Victoire had sighed sitting beside and muttered about how I should learn to be romantic from my _godfather._ I had huffed and remained seated on the couch despite the reproachful look passed on to me. I wasn't going to ask her to dance in front of her father!

Later that night when we all returned to the Potter household, I had followed Harry in the kitchen as he made a cup of tea for his wife.

"Do you always have to be so bloody romantic all the time?" I'd ask as I plopped myself down on the chair.

He raised his eyebrows in question and I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"Victoire thinks I'm not mushy enough for her…"

It was meant to be a joke. But he just stopped still and looked at me in a sort of alarming way that I knew that I said something I shouldn't have.

"What do you mean Ted?" His voice was reflecting his panic but his face was calm.

He slowly kept the two steaming hot cups on the table and asked in a quiet voice.

"Do you feel pressurized by her Teddy?"

"What?" I had stammered. What was he talking about?

"You are not afraid of her, are you?" he looked so worried at that time. I wish I knew what was happening to him back then.

"Are you satisfied with your relationship with Victoire?" he elaborated.

"Of course I am Harry! What the hell are you talking about?"

 _God_! This whole conversation was just so confusing and full of mystery.

"I just want to see you happy, make the right choice mate."

He stopped abruptly as Ginny entered the kitchen and quickly got up from his seat as if caught red-handed.

"Having a quality time with your godson, love?" She had smiled and I knew she had heard the talk we both had. To me back then smile had looked so serene and simply content with what was going on, but then again she was a living horror covered in disguise.

I had looked back at Harry and could his hands shaking as he clutched his mug tightly.

"Y-yeah."He stammered and it should have been enough for me to understand that he was afraid. But I didn't, if only I had.

Ginny took a step forward and he took a step back.

"The kids are asleep?" He asked.

"Yes, it's late, I think teddy should go back to bed now." She looked at me and I took this as an opportunity to run upstairs in my room away from discomfort.

My fucked up mind now realizes what I had ignored back then. That he had just interpreted from my comment that I was going through the same thing as he was. That he was the one actually pressurized, that he wasn't asking Ginny about whether the kids were asleep but was actually giving her a warning that she couldn't damn do anything to him when there were kids in the house. That he was just so fucking afraid of her that he took a step back when she entered the kitchen.

And the next day I was given the news as I sat there in the Ministry that my godfather had accidently taken a trip down the stair and was gravely injured.

How had I not noticed such simple clues? Maybe that is why he hadn't tried to tell anyone of us. Maybe he was really giving us hints to save him but we had all ignored it and maybe that's why he thought that there was no out of their relationship.

...

I was seven years old when and was sitting with my Gran in the living room when the floo flared and a hazard looking harry entered with a sheer look of panic. I don't know what happened next. He kept on muttering about how Ginny had just disappeared and then I was quickly ushered out of the room.

Through the other side of the room I could still hear their conversation.

"I-I thought she would come here when I couldn't find her at the Burrow or anywhere else." He was talking frantically, he voice scratchy and squeaky.

"What happened before he disappeared, Harry?" Gran whispered, and I imagined her comforting him.

"She got angry at something, I don't know…..it's just with being pregnant she has been moody a lot and I said something…it's my fault I know, but I didn't know she'd run away." He was speaking it all in one breath blaming himself over and over.

"You are just panicking dear, she is capable of defending herself. She'll come home soon." Gran soothed him and I imagined about how much he was really anxious. When I thought the coast was clear I hesitantly entered the room again and I saw him in a mess.

His hair was messier than usual, his glasses slightly askew and tears running down his cheeks. My Godfather never cried. Not like this anyway.

"Harry?" I whispered and he swiftly wiped his eyes on his sleeves and smiled. I don't remember much now about what happened. But I can still remember his puffy eyes moist and still filled with tears and the bruise… the bruise forming on his cheek which he told me was formed when he was hastily coming over here.

I should have bloody well realized what was happening then. Maybe not me but Gran could have. We all are a part of blame for what happened to him.

…

I have memories of just sitting there with him with a mug of hot chocolate in hand and laughing at some sarcastic comment that he had always ready on his tongue. I have remembrance of him comforting me and sharing my joy and happiness. I can remember the times when he would cry with me to ease my pain. He was so good with all of us. He knew what to say at the right moment and what to do to make each one of us—James, Albus, Lily and me happy.

It is still so unreal to feel that he won't be with me anymore. Honestly though, I don't think I have ever imagined my life without him. We were supposed to be happy, weren't we? But we all thought that we were living in a fairytale, a faux fairytale…we were just so wrong.

I think he would like his grave, it is situated just beside his parents' opposite to my blood relation.

Each night I just pray for him to come back, but he can't. Why can't the damn magic bring him back? I know I'm happy with my life right now. I am married and soon to be father. But I still feel that I am suffocating, always drowning but never dying.

I still remember the words he told me once as we were visiting the graveyard in Godric's Hollow.

 _Those we love, never truly leave us, Teddy. They always stay in here, inside our heart._

I love you Harry. And I hope you rest in peace.

* * *

 **I have written a side story If Only explaining more about hoe teddy found out about Harry's death. Please check that out too!**


	5. Hermione

**Here is the last chapter of A Faux Fairytale. I never intended to write a chapter of Hermione's point of view. To be honest the story should have ended at Teddy. I hope this one is good.**

…

 _Millions of words would not bring you back, I know because I've tried. Neither would a million of  
tears, I know because I've cried._

 _ **~Unknown~**_

…

 _Love saved the Chosen One before but this time it took him away instead._

The daily prophet has always infuriated me with all the lies it publishes but this time however I couldn't be just angry at what they had published. It was after all the truth. A horrible truth. Harry died because he loved her. We had just made a mistake thinking that she loved him too. The Daily Prophet still publishes its yearly issue of mourning his death anniversary, starting with the same sentence all the time. _Love killed him._ It still publishes about how Mr. Potter had never been an open person and how his family members should have paid better attention to what was going on. That we were also responsible for his death and no matter how much I want to disagree to their rambling I can't. Because they are the truth, a reality. The harsh reality that I-we ignored and it took him away.

The headlines seems like its taunting me. Mocking me and Ron for failing to keep the promise that we would always be with him. For him. I hate myself for failing him too. I hate to see the look on James, Albus and Lily's face when they're reminded of their dad. I feel guilty for every time I read the newspaper when it publishes and article about him. I feel the blame every time I look at James, his smile so much like Harry, his face resembling more and more like him each day. I can see in those emerald eyes of Albus, just how much Harry's death has affected him, his eyes so green and filled with regret, so much like Harry's. Lily when fifteen years old started wearing glasses, despite the contact lenses I insisted.

 _It's just the perfect excuse to not look like my mother._

She'd reply.

His death had caused such an impact on our whole family that I don't think we all have recovered from it yet. I know I haven't.

I remember when Harry would call me late at night with his muggle cellphone stressed out and panicking.

"She left again, Hermione." He'd say. His voice cracking and barely distinguishable.

"Ginny has always returned." I'd say trying to calm myself down as well as him.

I'd try my best to compose him and get him to go to bed while working my own mind that would try to still away the pain and confusion.

 _How to I stop myself from making her angry?_

 _I'm not perfect Hermione, but I want to be._

 _Ginny deserves so much more, I'm not enough for her._

These sentences should have been enough for me to find the truth. I should have questioned the reality when I would sit with him on many sleepless nights as he cried and panicked over his wife.

I should have seen through his façade when he would hide away the truth. The abuse.

Sometimes when I look back, I can see how close I was of finding all this out.

The day he was seriously injured for falling down the stairs was the start of events for me.

I think most of the people in the room had nit accepted his lie about the fall, but by seeing the look on Ginny's face and Harry's state we had all backed down and eventually forgotten about it .

Several years later after his death, when I sit here in the wedding hall surrounded by friends and family and waiting for his daughter to walk down the aisle, I can't help but regret over the past. He should have been here.

 _I don't think I would ever let of my little flower, Hermione._

He'd say and his eyes would be filled with so much love just for Lily.

The music starts playing and I can see little Dora Lupin with throwing flowers as far as she could, I fights the urge to cry and I catch a glimpse of my husband who sitting beside me, clutching my hand. He can feel the emptiness too. I know.

 _Finally managed to bring him around, eh? Merlin knows Ron needs you._

Lily appears on the aisle. Her face bright with joy and love. She smiles softy looking straight ahead her eyes shining and I know she is thinking about him too. She looks elegant. Beautiful and graceful. How much time had gone by? It felt like yesterday when Harry had exited the hospital room to tell me the news of her birth.

 _It's a girl! I have a daughter! Just look at her. Isn't she just precious? Just perfect._

 _One year old and she is racing on her broom. She'll be a chaser that's for sure,_

 _Don't grow too fast on me flower, I still have a lot of years to live._

Teddy is looking at me and I nod encouraging him to move ahead. His hair is his in original brown colour and at the edges I can hinges of black. Hes become a man himself too. A husband and father of one lovely little daughter Dora.

 _You'll see Hermione when he grows up he'll become a kind, vibrant and loving person, just like his parents._

 _Come on mate, won't you give your godfather a hug. He needs it so much._

 _You'll have me by your side always Ted. Just remember that._

Lili reaches towards her soon to be husband and leaves Teddy's hand to hold his. I can still remember how protective harry was of Lily.

 _She can have a boyfriend when she is thirty. She doesn't need them._

 _Jamie and Al will protect her. From all those boys at Hogwarts._

I turn my gaze to look at James, wearing the same robes which ones belongs to his father. He is standing with his wife Mathilda holding his five month old daughter Jane close. Harry's first son. The day I had seen Harry practically bursting with happiness.

 _I'm a father! I am a dad!_

 _He is at age when he likes immediate me. Not that I'm complaining. I thing it's pretty cool._

 _I think I haven't done a pretty bad job. Don't you thing Hermione? Eleven years and my eldest is still in one piece off to Hogwarts._

Besides James, Albus is standing with his heavily pregnant wife. Darcy. He looks like an exact replica of Harry. Eyes so brilliantly green filled with tears. I know he had a very special bond with harry.

 _His first words were Dada! Merlin! I sound like a fan girl, don't I?_

 _Albus is a very precious child. I'm glad to be his father,_

 _I love you Albus Severus Potter. Don't you ever forget that._

If only Harry was here to see this. See the kind and loving persons he had molded them into. I know he is watching over us.

Watching over us and you kids. Smiling from above, satisfied.

 _I am proud of all four of them. I love all of them. They are my life._

…

 _LIFE, believe, is not a dream_

 _So dark as sages say;_

 _Oft a little morning rain_

 _Foretells a pleasant day._

 _Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,_

 _But these are transient all;_

 _If the shower will make the roses bloom,_

 _O why lament its fall ?_

 _Rapidly, merrily,_

 _Life's sunny hours flit by,_

 _Gratefully, cheerily,_

 _Enjoy them as they fly !_

 _What though Death at times steps in_

 _And calls our Best away?_

 _What though sorrow seems to win,_

 _O'er hope, a heavy sway?_

 _Yet hope again elastic springs,_

 _Unconquered, though she fell;_

 _Still buoyant are her golden wings,_

 _Still strong to bear us well._

 _Manfully, fearlessly,_

 _The day of trial bear,_

 _For gloriously, victoriously,_

 _Can courage quell despair!_

 _ **~Charlotte Bronte~**_


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